From Nightmares to Dreamscapes
by DragonWyrd
Summary: A bit of a dark yet sweet scene between my warden Kaylahna Tabris and Zevran Arainai.


_**From Nightmares to Dreamscapes**_

A whimper, then a long moan, filtered through the campsite, causing more than a few of those trying to sleep to mutter ungracious words. When a sharp cry split through the night air a few moments later, Alistair growled and stalked out of his tent to Kaylahna's, shoving open the canvas flap.

"By Andraste's flaming sword could you two _please_ keep it… down…" he trailed off as he finally took a look inside the tent to see Zevran holding the sleeping warden in his lap, the elven woman curled up into as small of a ball as she could, her body shaking and straining from the nightmare that gripped her in its razor sharp claws. Zevran looked up at Alistair, while running a comforting hand over his lover's arm and back, his eyes dark and haunted.

"Kaylahna, bella mia, she has been having these nightmares quite often lately. They've been getting worse the closer we get to Denerim. I can usually quiet her down, but tonight, she's not having it," he shakes his head and sighs, his gaze returning to the red headed slip of a woman whose comfort seemed to be all he cared about lately.

"Why would Denerim give her nightmares?" Alistair ponders, his gaze curious as it fixates on the assassin who is rubbing light circles along her back, murmuring soft, nonsensical words. "I know she has family there, and from the sound of it she loves them very much. Wouldn't she be happy about going back?"

"Getoffme, getoffme, GET OFF ME!" she screams, "DON'T TOUCH ME! Please, don't touch me!"

With the speed even an assassin would envy, she flies awake and leaps off of the man in whose lap she sat, clipping his chin with the top of her head, and stands there, her eyes wild with fear and a deeper, darker emotion, her body sheened with sweat. Her borrowed clothing, one of Zevran's shirts that normally billowed out from her slender form, was drenched and stuck in places that made Alistair want to turn away lest he see more than his friend ever wanted him to. Horror washes over her as she realizes what happened and she looks between the two of them, embarrassment flushing her cheeks an angry red, before dashing out of the tent on swift feet.

Both men stare after her retreating form, then back to each other, Zevran gingerly rubbing his chin where her head had connected scant moments before.

"My dear Alistair, I think her screams say more about why she _doesn't_ want to go back. I think it's time I had a talk with my little lovely. Whatever's eating at her won't get any better if she holds onto it, yes?" Standing, Zevran tightens the drawstring on his pants and brushes past Alistair to follow in the direction Kaylahna had run.

After searching the campsite for a few minutes, as she had disappeared before he ever left the tent, he remembers her saying something about how peaceful the little stream was that they had crossed prior to making camp, and noting that it wasn't too far of a distance from where they had bunked down for the night. Staying as silent as a shadow, he slips through the trees and the underbrush, stopping at the sight of her dejected form on the bank of the gently flowing water, the moonlit night highlighting the tightness with which she hugged her knees to her chest and the tremble that ran through her body.

"Kaylahna," he calls out softly, approaching her slowly from behind, before kneeling in the soft earth beside her.

"Go 'way," she sniffles, her gaze averted as her violet eyes scan everything else _but_ him.

Reaching out with a light touch, he runs his hand over her hair, catching her wince as he finds the spot on her head that had connected with his chin not too long prior. Ignoring her, he reaches out and gathers her in his arms. Unable to hold back any longer, she lets loose in his arms, her tears a waterfall, and her hands clenched fists that pummel at his shoulders, as if she's fighting every tear that escapes.

"What happened? Why does your mind fight your return to Denerim so much?" he asks, his voice gentle and soothing as he tips her tear-streaked face up to his.

"What has my little wildflower so twisted up that her dreams aren't pleasant ones of me, but of shadows and pain that whisper through her eyes when she thinks no one is looking?" He watches her, already having a bit of an idea due to the words she screamed before bolting awake.

She sighs, her eyes lowering to fixate on the crook of his neck before she buries her face in it. Shifting a bit so she's in a more comfortable position on his lap, she wraps her arms around his waist then turns her face to the side so her cheek rests on his shoulder while her gaze stares out to the wooded area beyond.

"I've never told anyone. The only ones who knew were myself, Duncan, and King Cailan, and even they didn't know the full story. As far as they're aware, all I did was kill Vaughn Kendall for forcing himself on my cousin and holding the rest of us hostage. He was the Arl of Denerim's son, so that news didn't go over too well with the city guard," she sighs softly, her eyes closing as his arms cocoon her in a light yet warm embrace.

"It started off a day like any other until my cousin Shianni decided to not allow me to sleep in, declaring that I had to get myself ready for my wedding _right then_ as the groom my father had paid a dower for had arrived early, so it was to be a double wedding with myself and Nelaros, along with my cousin Soris and his betrothed. Vaughn and his friends crashed the little gathering prior to the wedding, when I was to first meet my betrothed, harassing the women until Shianni knocked him out with a heavy wine bottle. We had hoped things were over, thinking he'd never let anyone know that, as Soris said, an elven woman took him down, but we were mistaken," she sighs, stopping for a moment to gather her thoughts. The warm hand on her back soothed her and closing her eyes, she lets herself think back to what happened that day, consciously bringing forth the images.

"He stalled the wedding before it even began, gathering up the women as if they were his flock and him the herder. As before, he had seemed to take a particular interest in me, and while the others were untouched, I was knocked out before I could do more than a parting of the lips to try and protest his actions. I came to in his personal carriage, the other woman taken on ahead of me. He was already… already…" she chokes up a bit at the memory, "and I told him to get off me, to leave me alone. I think he enjoyed my screams, but when he was finished, he told me he was going to save me for last so he could have another go at me, before knocking me out again."

Zevran becomes still at her words, his body tightening in anger though his hands remain gentle. He looks down at the silken fall of red hair that curtains her face, obscuring her from his view. Resting his cheek against the side of her head, he closes his eyes and visually imagines himself eviscerating the faceless Vaughn in many painful and creative ways, coming back to the present when she begins to speak again.

"I came to the second time in some room off the kitchen, near the corpse of my friend Nola. She had resisted and the guards killed her. Soris was standing over me, asking me if I was all right, before handing me a bow that Duncan had given him, and letting me know that my betrothed was there as well to try and rescue us. The next bit is a blur, as all I really remember is killing every guard I came across, watching Nelaros slain before my eyes, and trying to reach Shianni as quick as possible. I was too late… too late. I failed her and she suffered my fate at his hands. I wouldn't let him talk me into taking his blood money. I killed him. I stood over him and watched the light leave his eyes, his life's blood drain from him, and I enjoyed it. He was dead and all I could think of was how good it felt to end his life. Had Duncan not conscripted me, I would be dead right now for killing him, but I'd consider it a death well worth it."

She pulls her head out from beneath his and leans back, her eyes tracing every plane and angle of Zevran's face, lingering over the curve of the tattoo adorning his temple and cheek. He watches her quietly, though a storm of rage billows within his eyes. Gripping her face within his hands, he pulls it toward his own until their foreheads and the tips of their noses touch.

"Had I the power, I'd bring him back to life and kill him again, doing it over and over again until I was sure he learned his lesson. Nobody, _**nobody**_ lays a hand on my woman with the intent to cause pain without me delivering the vengeance of the Maker upon them. And you _**are**_ mine, don't ever doubt that," his gaze is fierce, as if daring her to deny what was between them, even if it was yet unspoken.

Her face crumples and her hands clutch at his shoulders as she buries her face in his neck, tears seeping out of the corners of her eyelids as she holds onto him as if he were her lifeline.

"Don't you dare tell the others back at camp I was crying. I'll feed you to the darkspawn, heart of my heart or no," she threatens moments later, drawing her strength from the man in whose arms she lay.

"Ahh, bellissima, don't you worry about that," his gaze is soft as he pulls them apart so that he could look at her, though there is a sly quirk to his lips at her order, his mind tangled up over the words "heart of my heart" that flowed so easily from her lips.

"With you at my side, I would storm the gates of the Dark City itself if it kept you in my arms, but for now, we focus on the gates of Denerim, yes? No one will harm you while I draw breath, not even myself if I can help it. You have me now, no? Ahhh_… ti amo amore mio, piccola mia_," he whispers, nuzzling against her ear, then stills for a moment as he realizes what he just said, his eyes widening as his subconscious admits what he hadn't had the nerve to say until now - "_I love you my darling, my little one_."

"I love you too," she murmurs, her heart recognizing the words of love that she herself couldn't understand. As the words slip past her lips, she gasps softly, Zevran's head lifting, and they stare at each other in absolute shock.

"Well, I think this answers the question your warden friend asked me earlier as we were leaving the Dalish. 'Zevran, what are your intentions toward Kaylahna?' At the time, I had no answer, but now, I think I do. My dear, would you marry me? Be a wife to this hardened assassin who finally learned what love is within your embrace? I thought I had known love once, but it is a pale comparison to what I feel for you. What do you say, will you become Kaylahna Arainai?"

Her mouth hangs open as she stares at Zev, blinking rapidly in disbelief as if to make sure that she saw what she heard correctly. Her mouth shuts with an audible click as she realizes that he's more open and vulnerable than she's ever seen him, as he searches her own face for any possible trace of whatever her answer may be. Finally her lips slowly curve into a smile and she tangles her fingers into his blond locks, wrapping them gently around her hand so she can bring his face closer to her own.

"Yes, Zevran, I'll marry you," her words a soft breath upon his lips before she kisses him.


End file.
